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Back Off, Sis

I am a middle-age woman and reasonably satisfied with my appearance. I have a good haircut and wear age-appropriate clothing, but I’m not much interested in makeup or accessories. Several women in my family think of me as a great candidate for “What Not to Wear.” A family wedding is approaching, and my sister offered to pay for a makeup and hairstyling session — just for me. Other family members don’t need the help, she said, because they do fine on their own. I feel humiliated. Should I swallow my pride and accept her offer?

Anonymous

Are you kidding? Tell her to take her mascara wand and — sorry! (Two wrongs and all that.) Your sister may have meant well, in a clueless sort of way. Or she may have fallen victim to a bilious surge in sibling rivalry. If she’s quick on the uptake, cock your head and say: “Did you really just ask me that?” Otherwise, put on your most implacable expression and reply: “I won’t be needing your stylist. I’m fine with my appearance, though I am sorry you used a happy occasion to try to make me feel bad about the way I look.” Either approach should help redraw some healthy boundaries for her.

The exception here (and not an uncommon one) is for those of us who can’t take compliments or constantly run ourselves down. For example: Sis says, “You look great today!” To which, we respond: “Are you crazy? I look like roadkill.” If you recognize yourself in this exchange, it is possible that your sister was just trying to boost your perceived low self-esteem. But even so, you aren’t required to accept her offer. Only watch how you talk about yourself in public.

Parking Showdown Averted

While trying to park my car in the city this summer, I have come across parking spaces that are blocked by orange cones, where no construction or work of any kind is taking place. Recently, I moved a couple of cones and parked in such a space, only to have someone who was trying to save the spot for himself come screaming at me. I refused to move despite his protestations. What say you?

Hang on! I am still trying to figure out which is more amazeballs (my favorite new addition to the Oxford Dictionaries): using your own fluorescent cones to imply “No Parking” or that your car wasn’t sporting a decorative cinder block, delivered through the windshield, when you returned. But you are correct. The use of construction cones without a permit is illegal in New York City. Still, let me warn you against scuffling with strangers, however wrong they are. We don’t want anyone getting hurt, and they’re called “mean streets” for a reason. Better to flag down Officer Friendly or circle the block another two or three (million) times.

My wife and I were married nearly two years ago. She kept her surname. But every member of my parents’ family still addresses invitations and cards to us as Mr. and Mrs. Is there a polite way to ask that they address her correctly, or should we just let this go?

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I hear this one frequently and always wonder: How, precisely, did your wife “announce” that she was keeping her surname? Mind-reading is a lost art, and dropping breadcrumbs along the trail — such as using her own name on return-address labels — is a tad subtle. Making this even harder, if I close my eyes and squint really hard, I still can’t produce surnames for many of my relatives’ spouses, especially when a fat stack of envelopes needs addressing. Hence, the lazy Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

If this bothers you or your wife more than a casual eye-roll’s worth, respond: “Thank you for your awesome anniversary gift. We never mentioned it, but Iggy decided to keep her surname. So, we are Iggy Azalea and Matthew Smith — and, yes, she is fancy.” That should do the trick, right?

Tweetless on Vacation

My boyfriend and I are taking off the last week in August. I proposed making it a device-free week: no email, texting, smartphones or social media. He agreed to do without the first three, but fears that his Twitter followers may miss his daily tweets. We’ve agreed to let you settle this. Any thoughts?

Cece

You mean, other than the ones about your boyfriend being delusional? On the first day of every creative-writing class ever taught, the teacher says ominously: “No one is waiting for your pages.” (It’s meant to be motivational, I think.) The same goes triple for tweets. Tell your beau that his weeklong absence from the Twittersphere will only make his followers’ hearts beat faster. (And I promise to call you on a landline if Karl Lagerfeld joins the army of folks who have taken the “Ice Bucket Challenge” for ALS.) P.S.: Good call, Cece! I bet you return extra-refreshed in September.

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